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Only about a week had passed since her departure from the Frost Citadel, yet it seemed as if everything had changed. The man approaching on horseback, resplendent in shining armor and bright heraldry, a warrior out of legend, was Godwin.
He came to a halt not far from them, though a distanceremained. A clear indication of where they stood, who they now were to one another.
“Hello, Uncle,” Elma said, her voice clear in the morning air. “I see you brought an army to join me in my bid for peace. How unique.”
Godwin’s grin was bright, white teeth shining against his grey-flecked beard. “I see you brought your Slödavan prince plaything to meet with me. How quaint.”
A spiky anger lodged itself in Elma, along with something worse: How did he know that Rune was the prince? “Let’s not play games, Uncle. I came to speak with you.”
“So, speak. Unless you have something to say that the men of Rothen cannot hear?”
Elma pursed her lips. Godwin knew exactly how to put her on edge. “I appreciate your desire for candor, but I must reject it. As your queen, you’ll do as I say. Unless… you believe you’ve accomplished something with all of this?” She waved her hand to indicate the army.
“They’re loyal to me,” said Godwin.
Rune let out a muffled snort.
“Either we speak in private,” Elma said, growing impatient, the anger in her growing large and thorny, “or I withdraw and allow the Slödavan army to crush you, as is their right under the circumstances.”
Godwin knew it as well as Elma — his encroachment on the Slödavan land was a declaration of war. Only Elma stood between him and an all-out slaughter on the Frozen Sea, and if Rune was right, his siege weapons were not here.
Godwin shrugged, a careless gesture. “Very well,” he said. With a wave of one hand, he turned and rode back to the encampment.
Rune and Elma followed. Elma wanted to share a glance with Rune, to seek his reassurance just as much as she yearnedto reassure him. But to do so would show weakness, and she knew her men — no, Godwin’s men — were watching.
When they came to Godwin’s tent, an attendant took the horses while Godwin led them inside. A fire burned in a brazier at the center, and the small enclosure was lined with rugs and furs. A few chairs were arranged around the fire, and near the back of the tent stood a table, piled high with books and parchments.
“Sit,” said Godwin, indicating the chairs. He settled himself in one, kicking one leg out in front of him.
Elma sat primly, her back straight, hands folded in her lap. Rune practically stalked to his chair and hunched there, eyes blazing, an attack dog ready to lunge. Elma was glad of his presence.
“So,” Godwin said, leaning back in his chair and propping his elbow on the armrest, chin resting on fist. “Where do we begin?”
“I suppose,” said Elma, “we ought to start with you explaining why you’ve chosen to betray the Crown. It’s unlike you, Uncle.”
“Is it?” he said, deep lines forming between his brows. “I have always been loyal to Rothen. That hasn’t changed. The Crown is a symbol, nothing more. I am beholden to the people, the land, the legacy. And you, dear niece, have polluted our legacy.”
“Polluted?” Elma exclaimed, unable to contain her anger. “I’ve done nothing but what my father asked of me. I am a Volta. The legacy ismineto carry on, not yours.”
“And yet you allow the enemy prince to share your bed,” Godwin said carelessly, not so much as glancing at Rune.
“That is irrelevant,” Elma bit out. She knew it wasn’t. How had her uncle discovered Rune’s true identity? The truth of their relationship?
Godwin’s jaw clenched. “It is an aberration.”
“And this is why you’ve declared war on Slödava?” Elma said, incredulous. “A war you can’t possibly win?”
A cruel light glinted in Godwin’s eyes. “Will you not ask how I’ve discovered the truth of your conspiracy?”
Anger no longer nestled in Elma’s chest; it consumed her, a roaring fire. “I made him my bodyguard because I feared for my life in Rothen. And clearly, I was right to do so. I had no idea Rune was the Crown Prince of Slödava until we arrived here. The only conspiracy to discuss is yours.”
“Hmm,” said Godwin, rubbing his bearded chin against curled fingers. His hands were large and square, like King Rafe’s, and like so many of the men of Rothen, as unyielding as the mountains. “That’s not what Hugh told me.”
Elma’s anger, so bright and loud, turned suddenly to ice.Hugh. But he was in the palace, he was—
“Don’t look so shocked,” said Godwin, seeing Elma’s obvious surprise. “Did you truly think he would so easily betray his kingdom for you and this princeling? That he would not make every effort to come to me, the moment he was given a chance?”
It was as if Elma had swallowed a boulder. Her men had been given permission to move freely throughout Slödava. It would have been no trouble at all for Hugh to slip past guards, to make his way out to the Frozen Sea.
